Just Let Go
by TigerTiger02
Summary: tag to No Rest, Dean in hell with angst turned up to eleven. naturally spoilers for the episode. "Logically he knows that the pain exists because he thinks that he still has a body. Dean knows he doesn't but he refuses to believe it still."


Title: Just Let Go

Author: TigerTiger02

Spoilers: post-No Rest For the Wicked, so pretty much spoilers for anything before it.

Disclaimer: not mine.

Dedication: to my extremely bent out of shape and angry muse, Vera.

* * *

His arms ached, more than they did after Dad insisted on teaching him how to use a longbow. They ache more than after the first time he dug up his first grave alone at twenty-three (because all of the other times either Dad or Sammy had been then there to help him). His legs hurt just as much, worse than the time Dad dropped him off in the middle of the freaking woods and told him to start walking. Dean had walked at least fifteen miles before he was back at the hotel room. He collapsed and woke up to Sam and Dad arguing. He thought that after awhile of being here his pain would go beyond what he could handle and he would pass out or at the very least his abused limbs would go numb. This is not true.

Logically he knows that the pain exists because he thinks that he still has a body. Dean knows he doesn't but he refuses to believe it still. He doesn't want to believe that he is here. He can feel his clothing against his skin; can feel the weight of the amulet Sam had given him all those Christmases ago. He can feel the fiery ache in his joints and his bones and his muscles. He doesn't feel hunger though, or the need to pee. He can hear them whispering to him to just let go, to give in. They whisper that the pain will stop if he would just realize that he doesn't have a body (that he left his mess of body behind, oozing blood on his sweet brother). They tell him to let go because he knows that he belongs there with them. He knows that if he gives in he'll become exactly like them. And that is the scary part of hell.

He thought that hell would be like how Dante described it (he knows its shocking that he's read Dante but come on it was about a guy going into hell... at least the part he didn't skim), or at least like the Christian's thought of it. Personally he was more inclined to believe Dante, since why else would they have him strung up above an abyss? He never really thought of hell as a place before, never imagined it. He liked to believe that when he died there was nothing. But seeing Dad claw his way out of hell and go all glow-y and touched by an angel had shifted his beliefs a little bit.

He doesn't know how long he's been here in this place. He tried counting at first but lost count around twenty minutes. He only has ten fingers and ten toes, not to mention that pain was blinding at times and he couldn't think once they started whispering to him. He figures that it's been at least a few hours, maybe a day (because god if its more than that he doesn't want to know). It takes him a while to realize that time stretches here, there's a funny quality to it, like being trapped underground and not knowing whether its day or night (like the time he spent in that cave ready to be carved up like Thanksgiving dinner fit for a Wendigo). It occurs to him that it has been awhile since the first few minutes when all he did was scream for Sam, for help, for salvation before his voice went. Once it went he heard something that didn't sound like a demon, and that's when he knew that sometime had passed because he couldn't recall how humans sounded before.

"Please… I don't deserve this… just let me out of here…" then there was whimpering. Then full-blown screaming and Dean wished he could just cover his ears. Finally all noise stopped and then the whispering started. Sometimes the whispering was just things that he knew demons said. Other times they were personal.

"Just let go Dean… it's not that bad," this voice sounds suspiciously like Meg, but he could have sworn they annihilated her skanky, blonde ass. He even sees a flash of brilliant blonde hair in the eternal darkness and her profile before there's nothing but endless darkness. He realizes that this is a new torture for him. Specific demons tellings him specific things not just faceless and nameless voices anymore but the devil he knows.

"Eventually you'll enjoy it. You'll realize what a waste your life of righteousness has been and just let go." There was a flash of Casey's wicked smile before her laughter.

"You'll be free. Freer than you could ever have been, Dean. Hunting ain't got nothin' on joining the other side." Dean flinched at Gordon's voice and at the fangs he sees flashing. "No morals, Dean. Its hunting season… on Humans."

"We're right where we belong, Dean. We can't escape our sins. We did what we had to do and this is the price." Bela's eyes are large and glitter with unshead tears. Her lower lip trembles and the tears spill over. Dean thinks of what might have been if she had been truthful from the start. "No matter how many sorry's we speak... it is never enough." And then something detaches from the darkness and her eyes grow wide and a scream tears itself from her pretty mouth and she's gone.

"Howdy Dean. I would be pissed that you shot me in the head, splattering that very accommodating meat-suits brains all over the place but gee golly seeing you here just makes up for all of that." This was the shit-kicker for him seeing that brilliant pair of yellow eyes. He could stand Meg being alive, well as alive as that bitch would ever be again but good ol' Yellow Eyes? He struggled against the tethers, screamed, cried, and sobbed all at once.

"You bastard! You fucking yellow eyed son of a bitch!" he snarls out.

Then the tethers tightened and he bit through his lip in order not to scream. But he did anyway. Because it was hell. Because he was tired of fighting it. Because his body hurts and he knows logically it doesn't exist. Because he's already starting forget Sammy and Dad. And Momma is just the barest glimmer in his mind and he knows he'll forget her completely soon. Because now he can't remember what it was like to drive in the Impala with the windows down and the stereo up singing to Led Zeppelin. Because its getting harder to remember what Sammy was like as a baby. Because it felt like years since he got here and who was he kidding, Sam would never get him out in a million years. And god, he wanted to give in so badly. Just let go, you're one of us now, they whispered to him.

"You belong here, Dean, you belong to us now… Just let go."

And he did.

A/N: gee it feels like forever since I've written. So who else wants to give Kripke a piece of their mind? All I gotta say is that the CW better green-light season four or they are going to have some very pissed off people sending some strongly worded letters… or you know… death-threats. Anyway… made it through my first year of college and still going strong. Current obsession (next to my ever-present SPN obsession) is Neal McDonough. I think he is just beautiful…


End file.
